


Silky, curly, fine, all mine

by bioplast_hero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ambiguously cis or trans male character, Body Hair, Body Worship, Cute small dick, Friends to Lovers, Hair Kink, Half-Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Second puberty, Xenophilia, amab language, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22384543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/pseuds/bioplast_hero
Summary: Keith's body hair doesn't really grow in properly until that Galra 2nd puberty hits. But when it does, it's thick and curly, and also the darkest purple in just the right light.Predictably, Shiro is losing his mind.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 246





	Silky, curly, fine, all mine

**Author's Note:**

> I bring you this quick fic, in celebration of hairy gremlin Keith in ALL his glory.
> 
> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero) for more threads like this one.
> 
> I wanna thank @goldentruth813 for screaming about hairy Keith within earshot, and the several other sheiths who said in one way or another that they too wanted this to exist. Y’all gave me the confidence to write this thing and wreck Shiro in the process. <3

In his 20s, Keith is coming into his Galra heritage. Case in point: body hair. He doesn't really grow any until that second puberty hits him in the face, thanks to his Galra half. And when it does, that hair is coming in thick and curly, and also the darkest purple in just the right light.

It's a lot to get used to, but he'll manage.

Shiro, on the other hand, might not.

Oh course Shiro's been noticing changes, typical things as Keith grows into himself, apparently just a late bloomer. But nothing too strange, not at first.

The purple-tinted leg hair is the first thing that Shiro just can't ignore. It seriously throws him off. And yes, he is immediately, secretly wondering if the carpet matches, cursing himself for the thought. It gets lonely out in space.

Sparring with Keith typically ends with one of them pinned to the mat, which is all well and good until Keith wears a tank top for the first time in a while, trading out his usual tee. Shiro's weight sits heavily over Keith's narrow hips, arms twisted overhead to submit him— but then Shiro crumples like paper and forgets to make Keith yield, because _purple fucking armpit hair_. RIP Shiro.

Shiro was already lost on Keith, has been for as long as he can remember, but fuck if he isn't dying to know _everything_ about this new development.

Shiro hits the showers one night and finds Keith finishing up, towel hanging low on his hips. His soul escapes his body when Shiro confirms that yes, the trail is thick with dark purple curls leading downward.

As if Keith’s purple treasure trail isn’t absolutely far enough, the color follows Shiro everywhere without mercy. Purple-black curls have been haunting his dreams all week, his imagination giving him a much, _much_ closer look. Shiro startles awake more than once rutting against his sheets.

He skips a gym date or two. Shiro feels bad, he really does, but he knows he’s just not strong enough right now. In his mind’s eye, Keith submits him handily, repeatedly, granting him an up-close look at hairy armpits that he honestly just wants to kiss.

_Get it together, Shirogane._

He’s standing over Keith’s shoulder on the bridge of the Castle when he notices there are new purple strands growing into his hair, too. They peek out at the nape of his neck, curling in an adorably haphazard way.

Shiro almost— _Almost_ — reaches out like a lunatic to touch it. Apparently when his soul escaped his body, it took the better part of his higher functioning along with it.

He _thinks_ nobody saw. He hopes and prays, but he flees the bridge anyway, coughing about lunch not agreeing with him. No one believes that, but they all let him go.

He’s definitely not taking valuable strategic time to wank in the shower. Definitely not picturing his very best, very half-alien friend’s cock edged in purple hair. Fur? Whatever. He definitely _is_ banging his head against the shower wall when his brain catches up to what he’s just done.

“Shiro?”

It’s Keith, because of fucking course it is. Just Keith, half-naked and holding his shower caddy, minding his own business until he found Shiro having a fairly visible meltdown in the communal showers.

“Are you okay? Fuck, why’s the water so cold!”

“Uh,” he says intelligently.

Keith doesn’t ask permission, he just reaches past him and nudges the handle in the direction of tepid instead of glacial runoff.  Shiro uses his last brain cell to lower his hands to his lap. For a ship this large, the bathroom situation has always lacked for privacy.  You get used to it after a while, stop thinking so much about it.

Or, he _had_ stopped thinking about it. Right now Shiro is thinking about nothing else. The ice water was probably his only hope for keeping the wood down. Seriously, w hat vengeance demon had he pissed off this time?

“That can’t be good for you if you’re sick, Shiro.” 

“I—”

Keith retreats a couple steps, studying Shiro’s face. He does that sometimes, when he thinks Shiro might need something but won’t ask.

“How sick are you?” he says, leaning an elbow against the shower wall.

Shiro’s brain short-circuits from another good look at Keith’s new space cat armpits. It’s weird and wild and does unmentionable things to Shiro’s hindbrain.

Keith almost pouts this time when Shiro doesn’t answer him.

“Can I do anything for you?”

“No!” Shiro startles, dodging an invasive thought of _exactly_ what he’d have Keith do for him.

“I mean, no, Keith, I’ve got it,” he recovers. “Just… clearing my head a little.”

Keith looks like he doesn’t believe a word, but he shrugs and hangs up his towel, starting another shower for himself. He makes it hot.

Shiro is already going to explode. Why not add a little heat?

Keith’s back is turned as he starts washing, while Shiro focuses on finishing up so he can leave with whatever’s left of his dignity. He goes for the soap, realizing that for as long as he’s been in here, he has only managed to make himself feel more dirty, not less.

Rinsed and ready to duck out, Shiro hears more than sees when Keith tips his head back into the shower’s stream, eyes closed tight while he washes his hair. His nose crinkles adorably.

It only takes a moment of weakness.

Shiro peeks.

It’s not what he expected. He doesn’t know what he expected. He hasn’t exactly been at this best. Yes, Keith’s rug is that same distinctly purple shade, even when matted down and _wet—_ lord help him. It picks up more violet where the hair curls toward the base of his cock.

It’s… really fucking beautiful. Keith is always so beautiful.

Top that off with having the most perfect, purple-tinted small dick that Shiro has ever laid eyes on.  And sure, he’s mostly soft— and why wouldn’t he be, he thinks scathingly to himself.  Keith’s just minding his own business, being all accidentally devastating.

Hardly a handful, it’s so sweet and perfect. The sharply-tapered head is just begging to be in Shiro’s mouth while he fists his hand in those dense curls, tugging softly.

A sharp inhale tears Shiro’s eyes from purple dick to purple eyes. How he has the courage to meet Keith’s stare in that moment, he’ll never know. When he does, they stay locked.

“Uh- what are you doing?”

Shiro is having a full-fledged crisis over here. But other than a flustered blush dusting his cheeks, Keith doesn’t seem _too_ freaked out. Not horrified, not disgusted. He’s just wide-eyed and waiting for Shiro to explain himself with an unnerving degree of calm.

That's good, right? God, he can’t lose Keith over this. Okay, damage control. Shiro still has a chance to recover.

“You’re beautiful,” his mouth says, leaving his brain in the dust. _What the actual fuck._

The choking sound Keith makes next is not an improvement, and probably a sign of the best thing in Shiro’s life coursing down the drain.

_ No, no, no, Takashi- think! _

He holds up his hands, placating— desperate for just one more chance before Keith runs from him, from _this,_ and doesn’t look back.

“Y-you think I’m beautiful?” Keith’s voice strains, something so raw in it. “Like this?”

It takes the air right out of Shiro’s lungs.

_Like this._ Not any other time, but here, unexpected and indecent and completely on display.

How could Keith not know?

There’s water dripping from Keith’s face and running from his shoulders and off the planes of his chest, a literal fucking angel that Shiro can’t stop staring at, can’t help but want to kiss and to touch.

And he can’t play it off, can he? Hell, it’d be such a lie, and a cruel one. It’s suddenly so clear that his answer _matters_ to Keith, whatever it means to him. Shiro wouldn't lie to him in this moment for all the world.

Shiro says the only thing he can.

“Of course I do, Keith,” he breathes, his voice heavy with feeling. “I always do.”

Keith blinks water from his eyes, his face flushed, breathing just a bit unevenly. He lifts his chin just a fraction and it’s an invitation, a fucking siren song. He’s letting Shiro look.

It feels momentous and brave.

Shiro’s heart thumps as his eyes graze down Keith’s body again, a lurid slide that lays bare everything Shiro wants, has wanted. Keith has always been this rare and wonderful thing, always shocking him in the best ways.

The shocks keep coming. Keith’s gorgeous little dick is hardening fast under his gaze, standing more and more at attention amidst sopping wet hair that is still that unimaginable hue.

Shiro’s own cock could cut diamonds at this point— but hey, he's only human.

As Keith hardens, there are ridges— lovely purple ridges circling his shaft below the cock head, more prominent now as his cock stiffens. Shiro wants to lathe over each ridge with his tongue.

He's not proud of the low moan that escapes his lips, but it's honest.

Keith’s chest is heaving with his breath. He's almost shaking as he stands there, his pupils blown.

"Shiro," he pants.

"Keith."

"If you don't touch me soon I think I might die."

Shiro can’t believe what he’s hearing. This is the most surreal fucking thing that’s ever happened to him, and for Takashi Shirogane that’s saying something.

He takes a step, then another. Keith is right there, trembling like a leaf.

Shiro looks at him carefully, inches away. “You want my hands on you?”

“Fucking yes,” Keith gasps, swaying forward until Shiro catches him by the arms. His skin is on fire— the hot water, his racing pulse.

Shiro slides one hand up from Keith’s bicep, grazing over his collarbone and neck on the way to fisting in Keith’s wet hair. The tug is gentle, so far, but Keith whimpers brokenly anyway.

“Right here?” Shiro’s thumb brushes along Keith’s jaw, tilting his face upward.

“Anywhere,” Keith rasps. “Right now, c’mon— Shiro!”

For all his desperation, time almost slows. Shiro can’t hurry this, not with Keith. He never thought he’d get this far. He closes the gap between them. Feeling their bodies slide together with heady satisfaction, he leans down and captures Keith’s lips.

Keith arches into the kiss, slipping his hands over Shiro’s chest, brushing over his nipples shooting lightning up his spine. Shiro pants and kisses him again, deeper this time, dirtier. He gives Keith’s hair an experimental pull. Keith nips his lip so hard it bleeds.

“Sorry!” Keith winces back. “Fuck, sorry, I—” but Shiro chases his mouth, rough now, devouring. They stumble back into the wall together, Shiro licking deep into his mouth.

Shiro holds Keith there against the tile, splayed beautifully for him to bite and kiss down his neck and muscled shoulder. He captures Keith’s wrists, hoisting them overhead in his metal grip. 

He doesn’t stop to think before nuzzling his face in Keith’s armpit hair, giving a tentative lick.

Keith gasps, tensing instinctively.

“Too much?” Shiro asks, voice punched-out.

“N-no,” Keith groans.

“Good,” Shiro huffs a laugh, feeling more than a little out of his mind with lust. He inhales Keith's scent, sucking at the sensitive skin there, his free hand skimming down and over Keith’s ribs. Keith arches into it, his head knocking back against the tile.

“Careful,” Shiro breathes.

“Hurry,” Keith whines. “Please!”

Releasing Keith’s wrists, Shiro works his way to his knees, worshiping Keith’s chest and stomach and the delicious dips of his hip bones, tasting the water lingering on his skin.

He grazes his nose down the line trailing from his belly button to dense purple curls. It really is hair, not fur, but the distinction feels meaningless when it’s all so soft. He feels it brush against his lips and shudders, gripping Keith’s hips harder to steady himself.

Shiro runs his fingers from where he’s been bruising Keith’s hip, ghosting over his trail with another gentle touch. He tips back just enough to meet Keith’s eyes as he does it.

He wants Keith to know what he’s thinking.

How there must be no one else like Keith in the universe.

Keith’s expression flickers, something so tender it aches. Shiro feels the softest smile crack his lips. 

“See how beautiful you are,” Shiro says.

Keith stares back, arrested. He doesn’t demure or flinch away. It’s obvious how wrecked Shiro is for him— anyone could see that.  Literally, anyone could walk in at this very moment and see _all_ of that and more, but Keith needs to hear him say it.

It’s no mystery that praise is different when Shiro is giving it. Keith trusts it, lets it wash over him until he might just believe it himself.

Shiro slides his fingers down, combing through his bush and drawing a startled mewl from Keith’s throat. The touch isn’t teasing now, but firm and generous. And god, those curls are just long enough to twist his fingers in and tug—

“Nnnnagh!” Keith wails. 

It’s dirty and loud and this is a very shared space, but they’re miles past that consideration now. Neither one is backing down. Shiro knows he needs this like air, and Keith is fairing no better.

He pulls again, then curls his fingers around Keith’s cock.

Keith bucks his hips, chasing pressure, and though Shiro’s soul has already left his body and isn’t likely coming back soon, the next needy whimper somehow undoes him further.

Shiro strokes his hand firmly over Keith’s hardness, precum smoothing the way over firm, taut skin. He loves the way Keith’s cock fits in his hand. It’s so heady and hot, and still feels impossible that he actually gets to touch.

He slides the pads of his fingers over his ridges and the feeling buzzes through him.

Glancing up, he holds Keith’s eyes as he leans in for a taste, licking a stripe along sensitive flesh. Keith’s knees nearly buckle but he holds him firmly against the wall.

“Got you,” he murmurs. Keith’s eyes are full black and he gasps again— and again— as Shiro lathes his tongue over ridges and sensitive head.

The feeling of sucking Keith into his mouth, the taste of him on his tongue, has Shiro spiraling faster than before. 

Keith’s long fingers twist in his forelock, pulling blindly, and Shiro keens. More, he wants more of that.

Blinking up through wet eyelashes, he keeps his eyes on Keith as he bobs his head, burying his nose in Keith's curls over and over. Shiro hums in ecstasy.

“You can pull,” Shiro gasps after slipping off. It takes Keith a moment to process words while Shiro’s hands are still carving lines of pleasure over his hips and thighs. Then he flushes guilty, loosening his grip in Shiro’s hair.

“I want you to,” Shiro pants, “Keith, please.”

Fingers tighten in his hair. Gingerly at first, Keith pulls him down over his dick. Shiro groans as Keith hits the back of his throat, inhaling his smell.

Keith’s not so shy after that. He pulls harder, handles him more roughly, punching gravely moans out of him while he fucks his mouth with each snap of his hips.

Shiro’s hands skim down his hairy legs, gliding up the backs of his thighs until he’s gripping his pert little ass, helping Keith grind harder into his mouth.

“Shi-ro—”

Keith’s falling fast. Overwhelmed, his hold on Shiro falters before he picks it back up, determined.

“Fuck, Shiro- I—”

Shiro launches himself forward, taking Keith as deep as he can and growling low in his throat as he pulls on Keith’s curls. Keith gives a shout and spills.

Keith gasps for air, hips stuttering, moaning as Shiro sucks him gently through his climax. Nails bite at Shiro’s shoulders, just this side of too much. 

At last Shiro slides back, licking the slick from his lips like a starving man.

“You’re incredible,” Shiro pants, stroking Keith’s thighs. Keith doesn’t respond, looking like he’s going to collapse. 

Shiro’s on his feet faster than he can think, pressing his body against Keith’s, holding him. He kisses Keith’s mouth, long and deep.

He angles the shower spray over them again, choosing not to think right now about the ship’s water recycling system doing overtime. _Worth it,_ to have Keith like this, to know that he wants Shiro’s touch. His heart squeezes painfully.

Keith’s arms slide around his waist, holding him. Shiro basks in warmth and safety.

“You okay?” Keith’s voice is timid, concerned. Shiro takes stock and realizes he can feel the tears prickling his eyes. He nuzzles his cheek into Keith’s hair.

“Yeah,” he breathes a laugh, “yeah, more than okay, Keith. Perfect.” He plants a kiss at Keith’s temple.

Keith shifts, Shiro’s still-hard cock sliding against his stomach while he’s still trapped by Shiro’s bulk. “Here, let me—”

“Wait,” Shiro says, “you don’t have to.” The water’s going tepid now, steam fading.

Keith pouts. “But I want to! Shiro, let me make you feel good, too—”

“But there’s time, Keith. I’m not going anywhere,” he smiles softly.

Keith blinks at him, face full of emotion Shiro’s struggling to read. His voice comes out high and strained.

“Not just this once?”

“No,” Shiro cups Keith’s face in both hands. “No, Keith, god no. As long as you’ll have me.”

“But—”

“I am in love with you, Keith. I’ve wanted you forever.”

Keith gasps. “Forever?”

Shiro nods, feeling his face heat. He thought he’d never admit to that. Keith caresses his cheek.

“You never told me.”

“I know. I’m telling you now.”

Keith laughs, and it’s the best sound in the galaxy, giving Shiro a playful squeeze.

Shiro kisses the shell of his ear, speaking low. “Wanna hold you tonight. Come back to my room?” Keith sighs.

“Fucking yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love your comments, here or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero)! Say hi, I really enjoy it.


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